When Kinari entered the cheap, bare room they were in, her first words were, “we’re fucked! We’re deeply, violently fingerbanged, without even the common courtesy of a little spit to ease things in!”

“Spit?” Asked Demian. “Why would spit help us in our situation?”

“What? No, it’s not - I mean - ugh!” She rubbed her eyes in frustration. “What I mean is that we’re in deep trouble. You know what I heard when I went to the market to get some food?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me,” he replied.

“The town crier was describing the ‘two wanted criminals responsible for violent and dangerous crimes against the kingdom’ as I was buying cheese. And guess what? He was describing us!”

Demian nodded, looking dispirited. “Of course,” he said.

“But the real kicker here is they are also offering a reward! Not just for people who catch us, but to anyone giving information that leads to our capture! A nice amount of money too! They’ve had it on the newsies - lucky most people don’t read them but they also have criers on every street corner announcing it. We’ve just had a big, fucking bullseye painted on our fucking backs!”

There was a dreadful silence following that statement, in which Demian took a deep breath and asked, “are we safe?”

Kinari snorted dismissively. “Safe? Nah. But we’re not caught either, if that’s what you’re asking. The guards can’t really search this part of town too well. It’s a real labyrinth of tiny houses, hovels, alleys and gutter trash. The militia never even comes into this area normally. We’re in the shit pit of the city, and people don’t like searching in the shit pit if they can help it.”

She gestured at their shabby, bare room as she said it. It was cramped and there was only one bed, which they took turns sleeping on, and a stool in the corner. That was as far as the furniture went.

“Ok, when you say shit pit, that’s an expression, right?” He asked.

“It’s the poorest part of town,” she clarified. “Also, they pegged me as a half-orc. Hah! If I’m alone, I don’t see anyone figuring I’m one of the wanted people on the description alone. It’s real vague about my features. They had a lot more details on you, though. Your face, your hair, the fact you are blind. They also mentioned your… Family? As well as announcing that anyone helping you would be severely punished, but handing you in would be rewarded, with any crimes pardoned.... Were they talking about me?”

She looked sideways at him with open curiosity, not that he noticed her stare. He nodded after a pause and said only, “Not necessarily. They’re probably afraid of me getting support from any royalists in here ”

“Do you know if there are any royalists in this town?” She asked.

“There must be, although I don’t know who or how many,” he said with a shrug. “I was told that ‘the people of’ Adran pine to be again under the yoke of the royal family, and it is only due to the influence of the traitorous nobles that they haven’t rebelled yet’.”

Kinari scoffed at this. “People don’t rebel because a different noble is ruling them. They usually rebel when they’re hungry. Or when too many men are taken to war. And when that happens they usually get put down pretty quick.”

Demian nodded. “Probably some embellishment in what I was told. There might be a few sympathetic people here and there, I guess, but we can’t count on royalist support in Adran.”

“So...” She looked at him while searching for the right words. He no longer had his noble clothes, they were all stained with blood and had to be thrown away, and was wearing his new peasant clothes: a dark-green tunic made of wool and a pair of oversized hemp pants that were rolled a few times at the hem to prevent them from dragging. His face was downcast and his movements subdued, although she had only caught him crying once. He turned her way, but did not quite fix his blank eyes at her, instead listening intently for her next question. She might as well get it out of the way. “So, you’re part of the royal family of Viridia, huh? Like… Up high in the ranks?”

“I’m only a prince,” he replied. “My brother is the one set to be the King, once the regency ends.”

“Fuck me! So it’s true! Damn… But how the hell did a royal end up in the middle of the rebel kingdom anyways?”

Demian sighed, his expression growing sadder. “I’m not sure myself. I was supposed to be taken by ship to Kalamos. It’s a safe place where members of the royal family sometimes go to when they want to hide and be safe. It’s a small island with a castle... I visited it once before when I was younger. But… After about four days on the ship, I overheard Abraxas and the others of the royal guard talking about something being wrong with the voyage. We were going the wrong way?”

The memories got worse. Demian lowered his head and his voice as he continued. “They told me to wait inside the cabin. They were going to try and figure out what was happening. Vladimir and Hector stayed behind to protect me. And then… I heard the sounds of fighting. They lasted… A really long time. They shot at my cabin once, I think. Thankfully none of us in the cabin got hurt. Then Abraxas came back and told us we had to abandon the ship. He smelled of blood. And Boreus, one of my Royal Guard, was missing. They told me he had died in the fighting.”

“Huh. Think you guys were betrayed or something?”

“If Hector was a traitor, there may have been others. On that boat. Maybe even the captain.” Demian shook his head, as if the very thought was unpleasant and had to be shaken off.

“When he betrayed you, that guy mentioned Gronaw! I remember that. Holy Shit! You think he might have been a Gronaw revolutionary?” Asked Kinari, excitement creeping into her voice.

“Gronaw is far away, and it’s hard to imagine him being a revolutionary… But I don’t know,” admitted Demian. “Maybe I didn’t know Hector as well as I thought I did.”

“And you have the royal gift. The… Commanding voice thingy. Even I’ve heard the rumors about that one.”

He seemed to grow more tense when the subject was brought up, his hands clutching at his pants. “Yes,” was his only reply. “But you have nothing to fear from it.”

“Oh, really?” She asked, some suspicion edging onto her voice. “And if you were to give me an order right now…?”

He frowned and spoke, “go fetch me some water.” Demian paused for dramatic effect when nothing happened, before adding, “It’s not just about giving the orders. I have to… Use the voice, for lack of a better word.”

“And if you gave me a command while using the voice…?”

Demian hesitated, before replying, “... Then you would follow it, regardless of your wishes. If you hear it, you have to obey. But… I really don’t like using my Gift.”

“Really? You don’t like using your Gift?” She asked, doubt dripping from her voice. “But you do know that being the prince of the enemy country means you’re going to be a priority target for every soldier and blue blood around here, right? So you know what that means?”

Demian took a deep breath and turned towards her with a serious expression. He had prepared for this speech, and when the words came out he barely hesitated. “I know you are in a tough situation right now. You didn’t sign up for this, and now you’re being hunted by soldiers and you’re in danger, all because of me. You’re not loyal to the royal throne either, which… Which is fine. You don’t have to be loyal to me. But I have to ask you - no, to beg you.” He swallowed nervously before continuing. “Please, please, don’t leave me behind or turn me in. I can promise you everything that’s in my power -”

“I’m gonna have to stop you right there,” interrupted Kinari while raising her hands. When she realized he had not seen her gesture, she dropped her hands quickly in embarrassment before continuing. “Your guard, Abraxas. He made a blood oath with me. You understand what that means? He mixed his blood with mine. Willingly! He…” She swallowed, her emotions threatening to overwhelm her at the mere memory of that oath. “He made me his heir. He put me on the same standing as a noble! Do you really think I’m the kind of person that would betray something like that?”

Demian cringed, before saying, “um, I hate to disappoint you, but I know Abraxas also held no land… Although you are, um, free to ask his family for support and you get his belongings, of course. But if you’re expecting a title higher than ‘knight’ then… I’m afraid - ”

Kinari interrupted him before he could continue, passion rising in her voice as she spoke:

“Why does everyone think I’m gonna betray everyone just because of my blood? Do they think I’m the next coming of Egor the Envious or something? Shit! Look, if you treat me like shit I am not going to just sit there and take it! But that doesn’t mean I can’t be loyal! You treated me alright, and I swore an oath to Abraxas!” She paused and looked at her hand. It had been cleaned already, but she could still feel the blood that had stained its palms, a mix of red and black. “Even if he was a noble, he recognized me as an equal. For just one moment, but.. Bloody hell, I’m not turning my back on that! So don’t worry! I’ll get you to your country safely or die trying! Don’t worry!”

At this Demian smiled a little, the first since he had been carried away from that battlefield by Kinari. “Thank you.”

“Um, sure. Don’t worry,” she replied.

“And...” He hesitated. “Sorry I implied dishonesty from your kind. I’m sure they are very honorable.”

“My kind?” She scoffed. “I got no clue whether they’re honorable or not. Never met a troll in my life. Or a half-troll for that matter.”

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“Oh? So your parents...”

“Never met them,” she replied promptly. “I was raised in a workhouse for orphans.”

“Oh, I’m sorry...” He said quietly.

“Eh, it’s no big deal,” she said with a shrug that almost, but not quite, succeeded in making her seem unconcerned with the subject. “It’s funny to me though how some people say ‘you’re so angry all the time cuz you’re a troll’ or ‘you ‘re so stubborn cuz you’re a troll’ when I have no idea how trolls are even supposed to be! I don’t even know what they look like. No fucking clue at all. All I know is that they heal fast, I guess.”

“And… You heal fast too?”

She brushed her fingers over the left side of her face, almost unblemished aside from some redness and light scarring that was quickly fading. Her eye was there too, although still all-white and unseeing. “Yep. I can heal fast and even regrow stuff, usually in a few minutes. No hurt sticks to me except fire, now that hurts and it stays hurt for a long time! Fuck, man! Why did he have to go for the eye though? That’s what takes the longest to heal!” She hissed, prodding her own eyeball tentatively.

“Oh,” he turned more towards her, a hint of hope in his face. “Does that mean you’ll recover though? From your wounds.”

“Eh, I’ll be fine,” she said. “In a day or two my eye will be fully healed, which is when we’ll try to get out of the city. Now that’s going to be a real bitch.”

“Ah,” his expression lost what little joy it had, like a guttering candle being finally blown out. “Um, do you have a plan?”

She sat down and took a deep breath. “All our options, as far as I see, are kinda shitty,” she admitted. “I don’t have the money to keep us in this room for too long and even if the people here are not the most attentive, or the most friendly with the blue bloods, we might still draw the attention of someone greedy enough for the reward on our head. Or worse, this place might get searched. So holing up here is not a good move.”

He nodded, but did not add anything, so she continued.

“We were planning on leaving by being smuggled on a barge, before all this happened, but the reward on our head fucks up that plan for good. I don’t trust Keehog or any other smuggler enough to not sell our asses to the soldiers for the reward on our heads. We could also try leaving the gate separately, to draw less attention, but I don’t think that will work with you. Your blindness is something we can’t really mask, and their description of you is really accurate. They’ll catch you for sure. Unless, maybe, you use your voice gift thingie to make the guards leave…?”

He paused to consider it, before saying, “it would be very dangerous if we did that. If the people pursuing us know who I am and what I can do, they will be ready for it. As a quick idea off the top of my head... They could post sentries out of earshot or with their ears covered that report anything unusual, like soldiers abandoning their post for example or everyone suddenly freezing in place. We...” He hesitated again, conflicted. “I suppose we could try it if there is no other option... ?”

“Well, there is one other way,” she replied. “But it’s not going to be pleasant either. Or without danger. But worst of all, it might be the only real possibility we have.” She sighed at this, preparing herself to turn her thoughts into concrete plans, despite the danger.

“Well?” Asked Demian, tilting his head. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

“The city sewers go all over the place . Including out of the city, or so I’ve heard,” said Kinari. “And the soldiers and guards have zero interest in going there or securing the place. But that’s because the place is infested with goblins.”

“Ah, the former inhabitants of the broken empire,” said Demian with a nod. Then he frowned and said, “Interesting. I thought most goblins are now working for the kingdom as servants?”

“Some of them don’t like that idea,” said Kinari with a dismissive snort. “So they hide in the sewers while taking their frustration out on any fool that wanders down there. They hide and ambush any soldiers that try and clear them out, and most attempts to secure the sewers ended not getting very far, although truth be told most don’t even bother. So the old ruins down there are their territory, not the city’s. Truth be told, I don’t know my way down there any more than the soldiers, but this might be our best shot at leaving the city.”

“Huh,” he said, his face mildly surprised. “I had no idea there were goblin remnants hiding in the sewers of cities of the Kingdom of Adran. Sounds like something out of a spooky tale for children.”

“They’re no tale,” she said. “And there’s plenty of them all over the place. If a city was built on goblin ruins, then you can bet your ass there’s a few zealots hiding underground and ambushing anyone that wanders the wrong way. That makes it half of the big cities in the whole frigging kingdom. They might not be strong, but they’re vicious and good at hiding. But I’ve heard they sometimes smuggle stuff or people in and out of the city. Mostly rebellious types.”

He considered what she had said, before asking, “could we negotiate with them?”

Her eyes nearly popped off their sockets out of sheer shock. “Negotiate? With a bunch of lunatic, vengeful goblins that hate the guts of every blue blood to ever walk the surface? How the fuck would you want to negotiate with them?”

“They probably know the sewers better than we do? And technically we have the same enemies. They probably dislike the Adran nobles ruling the city as much as I do, so maybe we can find some common ground?”

“They hate all nobles though. They might help smuggle a few people here and there, but they will be much less friendly if they find out who you are,” said Kinari.

“Maybe we can soothe their fears and get them to trust us?”

“Terrible idea,” said Kinari. “Our best plan is to find a goblin and make him tell us how to get out of the city through the sewers. Can you do that with your power? Make them guide us to the exit?”

“I could...” He said, looking down and fidgeting in visible discomfort.

“What’s the matter?” Asked Kinari.

Demian hesitated before responding, “... I don’t like using my voice on people. I really don’t. Except when I really need to.”

She was taken aback by that statement, looking at him up and down before shaking her head. “That’s… I mean, you’re really not what I pictured a royal noble to be.”

He curled his lips in a small, sad smile. “What did you expect a royal noble to be?” He asked

She hesitated for a moment, before deciding that being blunt was the best answer. “I was told a royal once made someone rip out and eat their own liver because they thought it was funny,” she said.

His eyebrows shot up and a quick, short laugh burst in laughter escaped from his lips. His shoulders still shook in silent laughter for a few moments before he spoke. “Nice to know we have such a kind reputation. But their liver? Really? I hadn’t heard that one before.”

“Well, that’s what people say, you know,” said Kinari, looking away in embarrassment. “In bars and inns while drunk out of their minds. People say all sorts of shit anyways, I shouldn’t have believed them, sorry.”

Demian shrugged. “Well… Sometimes the rumors are right. Some of us are pretty awful.”

“Oh.” She was quiet for a moment, processing what he said, before adding, “but you’re one of the good ones, right?”

“I try?” He sighed. “And that is why I don’t like using my voice on people. It’s not a nice thing, to remove their agency and control over their own body. I won’t force people through that if I can help it.”

“Well, that’s very noble of you, but our lives are on the line here. Not using your power could mean we all get captured… Or worse. So when push comes to shove, can you use it or not?”

He frowned, but eventually nodded. “I understand. If I have to, I will do it.”

----------------------------------------

It was the next night when they left their shabby rented room behind, as well as the indifferent landlady who pocketed their coins with surly greed. Demian was cloaked with the hood covering his upper face while he held firmly onto Kinari’s hand. She wore her leather armor, her mace was hooked in her belt as well as a burlap sack filled with things and her yellow eyes peered anxiously at the darkness, looking for any danger.

“Come on, it’s not far from here,” she said, pulling Demian by the hand. She led him on a twisting, winding path down alleyways and dirty streets, their gutters so clogged with trash that its disgusting contents spilled onto the streets, creating puddles Kinari had to guide Demian around as his nose wrinkled from the smell. Most people living here were unbothered by these conditions, trudging towards their destination with the stoic resignation of one who does not expect much of what tomorrow will bring.

Eventually they reached an intersection that marked the invisible line between the poor shanty town and another, less unpleasant, part of the city. From there, they turned a corner and walked a few minutes until they reached a dead end marked by an underground entrance made with bricks and mortar, jutting a few feet off the ground. The gutters on the sides of the road ran into that entrance, where they turned 30 degrees into a ramp and ran down into the shadowy depths of the sewers. There were half-hearted efforts to keep people out, such as iron bars and signs, but Kinari ignored them and guided Demian through the bars before squeezing her large body between them with audible discomfort. When both were at the other side she held him firmly, one hand at his hip and the other holding his hand, as they carefully made their way down the steep ramp to the sewers.

“Ugh, it really smells...” grumbled Demian, his face scrunched in disgust. He had kept quiet through most of the journey, but this last assault on his nostrils was too much to bear.

“It’s a sewer, what did you expect - Oh shit! Careful!” That last remark is what she said after his foot slipped on the ramp and she held him close to prevent him from sliding down. She held his back tight against her chest and his body tensed at first, then relaxed slightly afterwards as he realized they were not going to fall.

They continued slowly climbing down the ramp until they reached the bottom. Kinari squinted back at the entrance, now a distant light that barely reached the bottom where they now stood, before taking a sack tied to her belt and taking from it an oil lamp and some flint. She fiddled with it until she managed to get a spark, and the oil lamp was now lit, revealing a main canal in the centre stuffed with rotting garbage on an ankle deep pool of grimy, foul-smelling water.

“There! At least now we have light,” said Kinari, raising her lamp high and looking at her surroundings.

“Oh, thank Ellora! Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to see anything,” said Demian.

“Very funny,” she said. “But one of us needs light in order to get where they want to go.”

“I was joking,” he replied. “It’s a good thing you have light.”

There was a raised walkway off to the side that was at least less filthy than the canal, and so Kinari guided Demian there and helped him up, before climbing it herself, but there was still no escaping the smell. Kinari always stood close to Demian, protecting him as much as she could with her body.

“Are you really sure goblins live here in these conditions?” Asked Demian in a low voice. His expression was still one of disgust as he coughed discreetly.

“Told you I fought them before,” said Kinari while they advanced into the darkness. “Goblin fanatics are fucking crazy.”

“Do they see things that don’t exist or hear voices?” He asked in a curious tone.

“What…! No, I meant that they’re crazy zealots that live down here and attack anyone that wanders into the sewers… You know, like we’re doing right now.”

“Then they probably have their reasons for doing what they do.”

“And that’ll be a great comfort to us when we’re getting stabbed by them in the dark,” she muttered, squinting her eyes at the darkness. The path they were following now split off into two tunnels, as well as continuing along the canal, and the oil lamp barely illuminated beyond their feet.

“Fuck, I hate this place!” She cursed, her voice echoing on the sewer walls. “I have no idea where I’m going!”

“So we’re going to need help if we want to navigate this place?” he gently asked. “From the goblins, right? Which means negotiating with them?”

She pulled him close to her and spoke in a whisper, while still keeping an eye on what little of their surroundings she could see. “Look! They hate the guts of any human they might find here without their permission. We’re not their friends. If we run into any goblins, we’ll make them get us out of here. It’s either you using your voice powers or me threatening to kill them! So, when I say the word, will you do it? Can I count on you?”

“You... You can count on me, I guess,” he whispered back.

“These guys are sneaky and fast! When I tell you to do it, I don’t want any hesitation! If you hesitate we can die, alright? So, again. Can I count on you?” She asked, more forcefully this time.

He took a deep breath. “Yes, I’ll do it.”

“Great! I know you can do it!” She gave his shoulder a strong pat, then straightened up and turned to one of the tunnels. “Then let’s see if this goes anywhere!”